


It's Not Enough to Drown Me

by mercurybard



Category: Push (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-26
Updated: 2010-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-13 09:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurybard/pseuds/mercurybard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are visions that never make it into Cassie’s book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Enough to Drown Me

**Author's Note:**

> Push isn't mine. Title from "This Too Shall Pass" by Nico Vega.

There are visions that never make it into Cassie’s book. Things that make her squirm when she thinks about putting them down on paper. Sometimes, she’s almost positive the squirming is caused by her utter lack of art skills—the moments she glimpses are too special to be reduced to childish scribbles. Neon ink on thick black paper.

A hand—her hand—reaching under a man’s shirt to take hold of a gun. How many times has she dreamed that? Felt the flesh-warmed metal heavy in her palm. Felt her fingertips rest just a moment on the skin at the small of his back. There’s always a sense of tension in the air, like lightning she can almost taste.

The visions are usually visual only. But not these. Maybe that’s why drawing them would be so inadequate.

The same back, a different vision, a different place. Chimes in the background like faint, ringing heartbeats. She doesn’t get to touch this time, just look as two images overlap, fading in and out so quickly that it makes her nauseous. One minute the man’s back is whole and pale; the next, it’s a mess of ruptured blood vessels and blooming black bruises. The key is missing—how he gets from one state to the next, not to mention which comes first.

There’s a tiny birthmark on the right side, down near his belt.

Cassie doesn’t know who he is, but she sees him constantly in bits and pieces. One night, an ear crusted with dried blood, and the metallic taste of it on the back of her tongue. The next, the dig of a chain necklace into flesh as her own hand twists and pulls it taunt. How is she supposed to capture with gel pens the feeling of invisible hands moving along her sides as someone breathes hot and damp against the side of her neck? None of it makes any sense.

Until she meets Nick.


End file.
